


18

by yours_eternally



Series: Feb-u-whump 2021 [19]
Category: Slipknot (Band)
Genre: Arguing, Biting, Bruises, M/M, Masturbation, Non-Graphic Violence, Non-Penetrative Sex, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rough Body Play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-19
Updated: 2021-02-19
Packaged: 2021-03-15 07:27:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29555628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yours_eternally/pseuds/yours_eternally
Summary: He knows there would have been a time when any of them would have helped out. But they’re not playing a fucking Wednesday night in a dive bar in Des Moines. And it was just something about the way Joey had said it. Like he wasn’t Shawn’s mind, body, and soul. It makes Shawn want to break something.Shawn knows it's not justified but he feelsbetrayed.
Relationships: Shawn Crahan/Joey Jordison
Series: Feb-u-whump 2021 [19]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2137497
Comments: 4
Kudos: 18
Collections: febuwhump 2021, yours_eternally's Febuwhump 2021 Collection





	18

**Author's Note:**

> The prompt is "Betrayal" ..shocking I know 😂

Shawn’s walking. He doesn’t know where. He’s just walking. It’s a drizzling mid-afternoon, still hours before their set. He’s in a field on the other side of the world, and he can’t seem to make his legs stop moving. His heart is throbbing in his chest. He _knows_ he has no right to be angry. And that fact is just making him angrier. 

Shawn comes to a halt finally when he reaches a point where there are tents, stretching out every direction, and he’s surrounded by wasted people. He can just about see the top of the main stage but otherwise he’d completely lost. 

‘Shawn! Dude, _hold up!_ ’ comes a short from behind him. Shawn turns and spots Joey wading towards him through the mud and crowd like a mirage. Shawn feels himself tense, a fresh wave of anger rolling over him. He doesn’t speak. He knows it’s illogical. He knows Joey is hardly going to tire himself out filling in for another band in for an hour. 

He knows there would have been a time when any of them would have helped out. But they’re not playing a fucking Wednesday night in a dive bar in Des Moines. And it was just something about the way Joey had said it. He just agreed without question or consultation. Like he wasn’t part of the collective whole. Like he wasn’t Shawn’s mind, body, and soul. It makes Shawn want to break something. 

‘Shawn?’ Joey says again. He’s almost reached him now and he’s frowning. But then there's someone in front of him, and then another, and another. Shawn folds his arms. _Busted_. He’s not feeling very sympathetic as he watches Joey get mobbed. It’s his own fault. He’s in his full get-up — not having been bothered to change from the interview that morning — looking like he’d just strolled off the cover of _Rolling Stone_. 

Shawn watches them; maggots feeding on a carcass. He can see them pulling at Joey’s hands, his hair, his coverall. Someone’s snagged the mask off where Joey had pushed it to the back of his head. Joey turns, eyes burning. So Shawn elbows his way into the fray, grabbing the guy and snatching the mask back from him. 

‘What the fuck?’ he says but apparently the look on Shawn’s face is enough to tell him not to get into it with him. Shawn gets a hand hooked around Joey’s upper arm and starts dragging him back towards where he can see the main stage. 

They lose the mob as they get closer to the stage, where a half-hearted mosh pit has formed. Shawn drags Joey right through it. He doesn’t care, an excuse to punch someone would be fine right now. Joey’s still clutching a biro, looking slightly dazed as they reach the barrier at the front. 

There’s a couple of roadies smoking, and hanging out leant up against the raised stage in case anyone gets over-excited and needs dumping back into the crowd. Shawn pushes Joey forwards and he takes the hint and climbs over, a guy in a cap trotting over to check the laminated pass he’s got swinging from his neck. 

Shawn follows over the barrier and lets Joey lead him back to the trailer that’s serving as their dressing room. He closes the door behind him. It’s empty and Joey rounds on him at once. 

‘What the fuck are you doing, man?’ Joey says. Shawn shrugs, throwing the mask on the table. He's trying not to look around him too much. It’s extremely bizarre to be having this conversation in that room that is decorated like his grandma’s kitchen and shakes every time he takes a step. 

‘Just needed a walk,’ Shawn says. Which they both know is bullshit, since Shawn had turned on his heel and stalked out the second Joey said he was cool to fill in that afternoon. 

‘Bullshit,’ Joey says out loud. Shawn shrugs again. He’s not explaining himself. He’s not getting into the red-tinged thoughts swirling around in his head. Joey will just have to deal. Joey huffs, folding his arms. 

‘Talk, Shawn c’mon,’ Joey says. ‘It’s not like he asked to fuck me, dude.’

‘Yeah?’ Shawn says before he can stop himself. ‘—you would have said yes to that too, right?’ 

‘And what if I fucking did?’ Joey barks back. He glares as Shawn's hands balled up into fists, his expression almost as confused as it’s angry. Shawn takes a step towards him, feeling something rising up in him. Sending energy rippling through his veins, making his stomach burn, and his hands shake. Joey seems to see something in his face because he steps back. 

‘Shawn,’ Joey says. His voice is low and his eyes are on Shawn’s face. Shawn steps forward Joey sort of raises his hand like he’s going to push Shawn back. And just like that Shawn feels his self-control snap. 

His hand snaps out, catching Joey around the wrist. Joey yells, shocked, but Shawn doesn’t listen. Shawn’s dragging him, pulling at him, and somehow they end up on the floor of the trailer, Joey facedown under him, his screaming muffled by the thin carpet. Shawn wrestles the boilersuit off his shoulders. Joey tries to elbow him in the ribs but Shawn catches his arm, forcing him flat against the carpet. Joey whines as Shawn gets his boilersuit down around his waist. 

‘Shut up,’ Shawn grunts. He can barely form a coherent thought as he fumbles his jeans down. He takes a shaking breath as he feels the hot skin of Joey’s inner thigh. Joey’s shuddering under him but he’s gone quiet now. 

‘It’s okay, it’s okay,’ Shawn says, kissing the back of his head. He doesn’t want to hurt him, he just needs — needs to put a mark on him. He’s now completely laying on Joey, he’s pulled Joey’s boilersuit down his thighs and his t-shirt is rucked up so their skin to skin. Shawn’s got a hand tight around Joey’s wrist keeping one of his arms pinned, while he’s got his other hand around his cock starting to stroke himself. Shawn exhales against Joey’s neck, fucking his hips into his fist as he strokes himself. 

He can hear Joey huffing out wet, shaky breaths. Shawn can feel his ribs expanding as his lungs fill and empty. It’s soothing. Having him completely pinned is soothing. It eases the ache, grounds and calms him. Shawn knows the grip on Joey’s wrist is going to bruise. That’s soothing too. 

Shawn can feel his edge, heat twisting through his stomach. He feels his muscles clenching as he comes. He sinks his teeth into Joey’s throat as the orgasm tears through him. He tastes metal and Joey whines, starting to squirm now. Shawn lets him up, rolling onto his back. 

Joey scrambles to his feet and Shawn can see his come dripping down his thigh. Joey yanks up his boilersuit, eyes on Shawn. 

‘Sorry man,’ Shawn says, feeling he’s slowly surfacing from a deep dive. Joey just shakes his head. There’s a deep reddish-purple mark on his neck and his face is flushed with upset. 

‘You’re unbelievable,’ Joey says, voice shaking, as he yanks his boilersuit up over his shoulders and half zips it before stomping out. Shawn groans, hands pressing over his face. 

**Author's Note:**

> Kinda love possessive!Shawn <3
> 
> [yours-eternally-ao3](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/view/yours-eternally-ao3) on tumblr


End file.
